


Ray Might Have a Problem

by greenmage128



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5217227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmage128/pseuds/greenmage128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>@RayNarvaezJr</b>: Tfw your boyfriend discovers your Amiibo habit while a couple thousand people watch. Rip me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ray Might Have a Problem

**Author's Note:**

> I have no defense for this. I watched Ray's latest apartment tour video, and I got ideas. So, here, have some shameless fluff. (Also, shout out to Tina Dayton and her damn impressive Funko Pop collection, 'cause holy shit, dude.)

Ray was in the middle of a Yu-Gi-Oh! match that seemed fucking impossible, and none of his chat's suggestions were helping. It would help if he understood any of what was going on. When did the dumb show of his preteen years get so stupidly complicated? The better question would be why, if not to intentionally torture anyone who dared to go back and indulge in some nostalgia.

He was getting more and more frustrated with each duel lost, but his chat kept him from throwing his controller across the room with a combination of encouraging words and dank memes. This was why he streamed, really.

There was a shout from downstairs, but Ray couldn't make out the words with his headphones on. He turned his attention back to reading through a card description, trying to figure out what the hell it even did.

“Jesus fucking Christ. How do _kids_ play this shit?”

A string of people snarking back, “They don't,” filled the chat window. “Fair point,” Ray said with a grin.

After another minute of attempting—and failing—to make sense of the card, he threw caution to the wind and played it.

Leaning back in his chair, he responded to the couple of “dude no” messages, “Hey, if I believe in the heart of the cards, it'll all work out, right?”

Ray was so caught up in trying to follow the sequence of events onscreen, because what the actual fuck, why do these combos _exist_ , that he didn't notice that someone else was in his office until Ryan said his name.

“Shit, Ry, sorry.” Ray turned the volume down on his headphones and looked up at his boyfriend over his monitors, pointedly ignoring the catcalls in the chat. “What's up?”

Ryan gave him an exasperated look, although why he expected any different from Ray after a year of dating was beyond him. “Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?”

“You seriously came all the way up here to ask me that?”

“Well, I tried to ask from downstairs, but that clearly went so well.” Ryan shook his head, smiling a bit, which Ray took as a victory. “Just answer the question.”

Laughing, Ray said, “Yeah, they're clean, you dweeb. Say hi to the chat.”

“For the record, I'm a nerd. Respect the difference. And hi, chat,” Ryan said, waving despite the fact that he wasn't on camera. He could be a giant five year-old when he wanted to be. And then something in his face shifted, and he slowly raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Ray? Don't take this the wrong way, but what the fuck?”

“What are you—” It took Ray a second to realize that Ryan was staring at the bookcase behind him, where he had all of his Amiibos on display. Oh. Oh no.

Ryan stepped further into the office, eyes wide. “How many Amiibos do you fucking have?”

Part of him wanted to mute the audio to his stream, but the damage was done. Besides, the internet already knew about his… problem. The fact that Ryan didn't know by now was his own fault. Just watching Ray's Twitter for a week probably would have given away the game, which may have been what he was counting on.

Ray tried to play it off with a smile. “All of them? Other than some imported ones that are in the mail.”

His boyfriend looked entranced with all the figurines, unable to take his eyes off them. It was kind of adorable, if Ray wasn't so afraid Ryan was about to flip shit over a bunch of Nintendo toys. They'd fought over dumber things.

“I, uh. Just. Wow.” Ryan finally looked back over at Ray, still in awe. “How did you even pull this off?”

“Tina, mostly. She even made a checklist and everything.” Ray let himself relax a little, smile turning genuine. “You mad, bro?”

Ryan laughed, crossing his arms and standing up straighter. “More impressed than anything. How the fuck did I not notice seven hundred Amiibos entering our house?”

Ray grinned. “Puerto Rican ninja.”

“I'm not even going to ask how you smuggled them in,” Ryan said. He winked at Ray and then paused, glancing between his desk and the bookcase o' Amiibo. He pointed at the Waluigi sitting by one of the monitors. “I know you love that one, but why do you have three of him?”

Mute the audio, asshole, his brain told him, but that would've just made him look guiltier, and Ray didn't need the help. “Well, one's for a different system, and this one—” He pointed at the Waluigi sitting proudly on his desk. “—is the one you got me.”

The corner of Ryan's mouth turned up in a smirk. Oh, he was going to pay dearly for that, for all of this. It was just a question of when.

He took a step towards Ray, edging in front of the greenscreen.

“Ry, no!”

His protest came a second too late, as Ryan swooped in, grabbed his face, and kissed him in front of two thousand of his closest friends.

Ray shoved him half-heartedly when they parted, though he couldn't stop himself from smiling. “Ryan the Sappy Guy over here.”

Ryan just gave him a shit-eating grin and the camera wave, except the audience got to see it now. Yep, still a dweeb. “Next time, just put the dishes away.”

“No promises,” Ray yelled after him as he left.

He waited until all the variations of “gayyy” and “no homo” had either died down or their users banned in the chat before returning his attention to his game. Somehow he had managed to lose the duel without pressing a button.

“Fuck this. Who's up for some Saint's Row?”


End file.
